


Home

by likethechesspiece



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: 4x1, A new hope, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 15:24:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12301983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likethechesspiece/pseuds/likethechesspiece
Summary: While Artie was trying to convince Mrs Frederic of HG's redemption and new "good guy" status after they save the warehouse, I wondered where the others were and what they were doing.





	Home

The warehouse was safe and Walter Sykes was dead. There was something in Artie’s walk as he headed back to his office, how Pete helped Helena fold Gandhi’s Dhoti, the way the air sat nervously around her that made her mind race with what possibilities may have happened if they hadn’t been able to stop the bomb from going off. If that hatred filled fragment of history had caused unsurmountable damage, just like any number of artifacts that sat shelved around her; what would’ve happened?

The random remarks of information that had solved the day and left Artie walking back to his office nervously, shaking his head in jerking motions as he went as if he were in deep debate with himself, were known but backed up with no prior conversation to hint at them. Myka stood and observed, her shoulder pulling to the right in unease, because Pete was not talking to H.G, but he wasn’t making any snide comments either. She was sure that if she asked Leena, too, about Artie later in the evening, she would be able to concur on the oddness that surrounded him. The shroud of secrecy.

But then Pete was saying that he’d stay at the warehouse to clean things up, and Helena was running her hands in distaste through her hair; the way she had always done when she needed a shower, but wouldn’t say as much. Myka frowned momentarily at her remembrance of that, so clear as if not a day had passed since Helena had lived at the B&B. Myka’s stomach rumbled as well, and so it seemed as good a time as any to leave the warehouse for the day, and to return to a home of attempted normalcy with hot running water and a never-ending supply of cookies.

With only the one car, it seemed best that the three of them travel together, so with a look and then a sigh in return, Helena accepted a hair-tie from Myka and resigned to suffering with unclean hair and tired skin until they could all return to town. The two of them took care of the dhoti and the House of Commons artifact, whilst Pete returned back to Sykes’ side with an ordinary, non-artifact-y sheet to cover him until Artie or the regents knew what do with him next.

Helena’s gait was abnormal to Myka as well, and so when they had re-shelved the items, she stood in the other woman’s way with a questioning look on her face. Helena responded with one quite like it and while it and her gait didn’t seem to garner any dark mystery like Artie’s, it was still of concern to Myka.

“What?” the English voice came, petulant in its delivery, and so Myka relented.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Helena answered with only slightly shifting eyes. She knew that she was unconvincing and so she continued. “What next?”

“Well, we head home and you can have a shower, I suppose. Unless Pete has gotten distracted.”

“No, I mean...” and when she didn’t finish, Myka caught on to what she really meant.

“Oh.”

“Is it really my home again?”

“I don’t know,” Myka admitted. “I guess that’s up to the regents. And Artie.”

“So... what next?”

Hearing Pete’s galloping footsteps approaching a few aisles over, she stepped forward to tap Helena’s arm, beckoning her to follow, before she gave her answer. “Well, we head home,” she began, and basked in Helena’s smile. “And you can have a shower,” for it was the best answer she could manage. Until the regents informed any of them as to what was supposed to happen next, they could at least borrow the time until then to be normal. Together.

And ‘together’ was important to Myka at that moment, because she had almost lost Helena, had almost lost her and then lost herself to Helena in a way that she hadn’t wanted to be lost to. The other woman was her mystery to uncover, to read and memorise, and dive into and get lost in, but in no fantasy or dream of her mind had she wanted her life to be lost to Helena.

So, they walked, to meet Pete at the end of the aisle, and then up through Artie’s office as Mrs Frederic and Mr Kosan arrived – Helena nervously smiled at them and looked over to Artie hopefully, as did Myka – and then out to the car they were. The drive was quiet, everyone’s minds tired from the emotion and chaos of the past few days, and only three words were spoken as they entered Univille: “Myka,” Helena nudged the other woman’s arm as she sat in the front seat, returning her hair-tie to her.

“Thank you,” and then it was silent again. Pete bounded to the kitchen as soon as they arrived, to which no one was surprised, and Claudia silently greeted Helena with a hug, tight and thankful, before she skulked up to her room. Leena welcomed H.G back as well, before heading to the kitchen to make them all some food, and so they were alone. Myka and Helena, Helena and Myka. Standing by the staircase alone in a place that they had once both confidently called home, but now couldn’t, and it felt like a lie to pretend.

Myka began to look anywhere but at Helena, and the shorter woman’s hands fiddled nervously in front of her. The atmosphere was heavy and demanding of words, confessions, anything, but then Myka cleared her throat and turned to head up the stairs, and so Helena followed. “I suppose you’ll want clean clothes?” she asked, and only then did Helena realise that she had been wearing those clothes, through sweat and tears, blood and under the control of artifacts, and probably did need something fresh to wear, yes. She followed to Myka’s room and stood awkwardly just inside of the door, watching as drawers were opened and closets were ransacked, all to end with a pair of loose jeans and a sweater.

“Thank you,” she hushed, because now it had grown slightly awkward between the two.

“I, um... there’s some clean underwear too,” and then Myka was smiling, eyes only flashing up to Helena’s briefly, before she left. She quickly stepped unevenly down the stairs and swung around the bottom to head to the kitchen, a moment later her laugh ringing up to Helena’s ears as she must have laughed at Pete’s mad decision to eat a whole sandwich at once.

Again, the space around her grew quiet, and Helena turned to head to the bathroom, but noticed Claudia standing by her own doorway watching her. “Clau-“

“Don’t not tell her, okay?”

“Tell her... I don’t understand, Claudia,” Helena said.

“Steve was my best friend. I loved him. But I didn’t tell him that. To his face, I mean, I never... and now he’s dead, so...”

“I know,” Helena nodded, wishing she could step across the hall to the other woman and hug her, but then she was retreating back into her room.

A while later, when Myka’s hair was now pulled up into a messy ponytail and Leena had ventured up to bring Claudia some food, Pete’s phone rang and so he left the lounge room to go and talk to Jane, passing Helena on the stairs. He smiled at her for a moment, or at the sweater she wore, and continued past her.

Helena, already nervous enough to be dressed entirely in Myka’s clothes, was now oddly more nervous to be seen in them _by_ Myka, but she needn’t have worried, because she was met with a warm smile, just as always. “Leena made you some food,” she said, getting up from the couch and passing Helena – again with that light touch on her arm to beckon following – and walked to the kitchen barefoot. Her jacket had also been discarded since coming home, and Helena could now see more evidently that the shirt was rather sheer, Myka’s black bra underneath catching her attention. “Ham and salad?” Myka asked, pulling out a sandwich from the fridge and setting the plate down on the counter in front of Helena.

“Myka, I...” she stammered, really wishing that she had formed a whole sentence in her mind before opening her mouth. Claudia’s words had run through her mind the whole time she had showered, and she had thought herself capable enough to voice those feelings towards Myka as well, but now that she was face to face with her, it became quite apparent that she couldn’t. Or wouldn’t, as the case may be.

“I’m so glad that Pete was too late,” Myka blurted instead, not even granting Helena the time to try and speak again, not that she really would have. “To destroy the Janus Coin. And that you remembered Caturanga’s distaste for following rules. And that you came back here for a shower, even,” she laughed. “Because you look so... because you’re here. All of you is here, and...” and while Helena felt her eyes burning just in the slightest, because she was so very glad that she was here too, Myka’s arms were reaching out and hands were resting on her shoulders. They ran down her arms and squeezed a little, and then they were hooking and pulling, bringing Helena closer.

She slipped into Myka’s embrace, her hold, her body in such a familiar way that she wondered why it felt so much like home despite never having been in it. She told her mind to shut up for just a moment then, wanting to not over-analyse any of it, or form any sentences, but to instead just live in it. The regents may command she leave, or she may self-destruct and leave by herself, but for now she was in Myka’s arms, and Myka was in hers and they were home.

**Author's Note:**

> Not only are Bering and Wells meant to be, I believe they are each others homes as well. Come and cry with me about them over at sapphos-throne.tumblr.com xo


End file.
